Do you believe in miracles?
by ombresmoke
Summary: Maybe not everybody gets a miracle. But maybe, just maybe, you did.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! I'm ombresmoke and because my last bechloe fic was a one-shot I decided to make a full story, it isn't based on the movie nor my last fic. If you review and let me know if you want me to continue I'll do just that, but you guys are the core to this fic and I hope you'll stick around for the weekly updates. This is a story about destiny and miracles, not necessarily in the common way or definition of the word. I hope you like it as much as I do. This first "chapter" is an introduction, so with that, enjoy and leave feedback. xo**

 _ **Introduction**_

You go your whole life hoping, wishing, imagining a miracle will find a way to you. You've seen those newspaper article's of people finding a cure for cancer but miserably fail when it comes to a test. You've heard your friends talking about a girl from the neighbourhood who came back from a three year coma. You lie in bed at 2 a.m listening to your favourite song and a thought slips into your mind. _"What if I never get my miracle?"_ Sometimes its a lottery win. Sometimes its passing an exam you've studied for, for the past two months while staying up all night drinking double espressos you despise. Sometimes its something as mediocre as finding a dollar bill note on the pavement.

But sometimes, sometimes, your miracle is the way she looks at you for a split second whilst you pass her on the busy road of New York. Two million pairs of eyes around you, all swallowed by their own thoughts of dreams and miracles, but for that one split second she looks at you, and you wonder why you looked back. Suddenly no money in the world equals to the feeling you get inside your flesh when those indescribable pair of eyes meet your own and you think. You think that maybe money does not guarantee you a life of happiness, maybe you can sweet talk your teacher to let you repeat that exam after summer. Maybe, just maybe those bright blue eyes full of wisdom and understanding are all you will need for the rest of your days and its those exact eyes you want to look at a year later when you got a promotion at work or you got an A in your exam repeat. _Those_ eyes will belong to the same being that is now holding your hand when you say goodbye to your mother in the hospital. _Those_ eyes will belong to the same being that is cuddled up by your side at 4 a.m when you've woken up _again_ for the third time this week. Through the thick and thin, those bright blue eyes were your Saturday night lust, and your Sunday morning love. Every week. Maybe not everybody gets a miracle. But maybe, just maybe, you did.


	2. Chapter 2

You choose English literature as you major because you like to write. Reading isn't as appealing, nor is sticking endless post-it notes around your room just so you can scrape a pass in the finals. You have to admit that Wuthering Heights is an excellent play, however.. it isn't necessarily your cup of tea. You prefer the straight-up romance, two people talk for months, decide their favourite dog breed is the same and next thing you know you're married. Yeah, sort of like that. You never believed those soppy romantic films that your classmates were crazy about or those unbelievable novels of love at first sight. As far as you were concerned, that connection didn't exist. Your parents divorce when you're going into middle school and the thought of true love goes to the back of your mind in the snap of fingers. You have a boyfriend or two, but it doesn't work out. Maybe because they were both in a band and the only thing they could turn on was their electronic keyboards. Either way, the idea of love was lost on you. Back to the studying. Who decided the colour of yellow mould was appealing to the eyes whilst revising quotes? Because you certainly don't agree, orange, or green would be a better option but either way you are more concentrated on the over-spilled bin underneath your desk than on what you should actually be doing. Maybe your father was right about you, Beca Mitchell, maybe you are a lost case.

If you got a dollar for every task you procrastinated you would be lying in a pile of cash, not needing a crappy coffee-shop part-time job. How cliché of a college student. But Stanley, the owner lets you keep all of the left over donuts and muffins- as if they weren't stale enough already- and you usually write your thoughts down in a journal whilst swallowing your feelings which aren't any sweeter than the icing on those donuts. The routine isn't quite exciting, but you do want the money to go to LA in summer and do an internship. Your father is many things, mundane? Yes. Old-fashioned? Very much so. His nagging finally came to a stop once you agreed to going to college, and in all honesty it wasn't as bad as you thought it would have been. Besides the lack of friends factor. You never good at that honestly, your laptop was a much better and loyal companion.

You stand at the till the whole day making coffee for tired assholes, until you become a tired asshole yourself and decide it is a wrap. You clean up and lock the doors, walking behind the last customer for the night. When you get back to your dorm and eye the post-it notes for the three-hundredth time that day, you call it a day and crawl into bed. When you wake up the next morning- or, more like, afternoon you check your phone. Multiple texts from Jesse, a friend but not quite a friend blow up your phone about the party for the seniors. Although you're not a senior until next year you go get a shower and get somewhat ready to actually resemble a human being. Once the black eyeliner, slightly overdone if you said so yourself was finished, you stuck on a black net-like crop top and black high waisted jeans on along with your platform boots and you left your dorm room not thinking twice of the night ahead. Maybe it was for the best or maybe you did a rookie mistake right then and there.

You enter the huge fraternity filled with muscled guys and half-naked girls and you almost feel out of place. The bass coming from the speakers makes the ground shake slightly and you can almost laugh at the music choices. If anything, you know that shit from A to Z and the now playing tune in the background is oddly similar to some of your mixes, only not as breathtaking, of course. Jesse spots you from the other side of the enormous pool and runs over almost slipping on a pink bra lying nearby. He hands you over a drink. If you had to guess it was a badly mixed Pepsi with four- maybe six shots of vodka and a weird cinnamon aftertaste. Free drinks don't hurt so you down it and you feel the warmth of the alcoholic beverage consume your tiny body before heading over to a group of fellow English students alongside Jesse. After a three hour mark everything slowly begins to go blurry and you decide to sit down. The party isn't half as bad as you were expecting, however you barely know anybody there, yeah, going to an all senior party has some disadvantages. You sit at a badly made wooden bench-like structure nearby the bar and you're focused solely on your cup and whether you're going to puke right now or not. You decide not to and proceed watching the interactions between the crowd surrounding you, not paying slightest attention to the girl now sitting beside you. You aren't sure if she just came over or if she has been watching your drunk antics the whole time and is subliminally judging you. You don't care though, you're cool, remember? You hear some sort of hum, and you're not sure if you're going deaf from the music blasting or if you actually are much more drunk than you had imagined a few minutes earlier.

"I've never seen you around before."

You look right. Nothing. You look back. Nothing. You feel slight pressure from an unfamiliar hand on your left shoulder and turn around, probably making a fool of yourself as you currently resemble a lost puppy. Or something like that. It's a girl. She is quite blurry but you're guessing if you weren't hammered she probably wouldn't be and so you awkwardly smile.

"Yeah, I actually don't go to college. I sneak out with my boyfriend and show up to random frat parties just for the booze."

She laughs.

"I figured. But really, boyfriend? I've been watching you for a while and you haven't talked to any guys around here." She looks like she's blushing. That or she took an allergic reaction but you don't really notice. "Not that I'm a creep or anything, I just thought you'd want some company or a lift home, you don't look too good."

You chuckle.

"I'll have you know Theodore is an amazing boyfriend. And if you were watching me you'll totally agree that I did not steal that guys drink, I was just minding it for him."

You try to focus more on the girl, all it is right now is a blue top and red hair, the rest is past your talents as of now.

"Also, I always look good." You take another sip or two and sit back scanning the backyard now starting to empty.

"Wow. You're so cocky. And Theodore? Really? Don't worry though, your secret is safe with me."

She winks and stands up, stretching her arm out to help you. You take the offer trying to stay up on two feet, as impossible as it seems.

You remember lights, and then a car, and she may or may not say something about how she wishes you two could be friends but she's going to her new job after Barden. And then you're in your bed.

The next morning isn't the best feeling ever, you have to admit. You don't remember much from the night before, between Jesse disappearing with some blonde and some girl talking to you at the party, all you can actually focus on right now is the piercing headache you're experiencing. You move your head and spot a new yellow post-it note on your laptop along with a box of painkillers. You read the note and only see four short words.

"My name was Chloe :)"


	3. Chapter 3

Hi guys! Thank you to those who followed/reviewed/read my story so far, I did promise another chapter so here it is, I love feedback so it would mean loads and loads to receive more of it to see if you guys really do like this- hope I'm not asking too much ;) Again, thank youuuuu and enjoy this chapter. xo

It's easy to get completely stray from your path in life and create a new, somewhat better universe in your head. You live in your bubble and anything or anyone you come across get to know the side you carefully created in order to make them like or dislike you, for whatever reason. From a young age, we are taught to be careful who we open up to, all of that "stranger danger" nonsense at the time turns out to actually be quite useful, be it keeping a distance from strangers in white vans or offering candy, or opening up to new acquainted people in your surroundings. It is hard to trust someone, especially when you've been let down many times. And trust someone again is not a simple task, but when you finally trust them, it only takes the door closing to lose it all and go back to the start.

/Three years later/

Beca hated waking up early. It was frustrating to wake up tired every single day. She could have went to bed at 8p.m (this was extremely rare) or 1a.m, usually being the chosen option as despite the DJ obtaining a job as a journalist at one of New York's monthly magazines, she still loved music. It was Beca's main passion and true love. She has put it first since she was in high school, however, for some reason she always failed to make it as a career path. The producer she went to an interview with said she was too alternative, and her mixes used already existent songs, therefore, it wouldn't get her far in this particular industry.

Once she finally did her make-up-now a lot more settle than back in her college years and curled her thick brown hair, she put on a skin-tight royal blue dress and heels. It was October, and realistically you could freeze to death on some days and so Beca quickly threw on a faux fur coat which made her look beautiful paired with a belt. Her job brought out a much more feminine side and she was surprised herself when one of her new colleagues, Stacie, invited her shopping during the first week. Beca was happy with her appearance, she felt confident and pretty, something she wouldn't have admitted three or so years back.

Despite a decent income, she didn't want to splurge so early in her life in New York. The town was fairly expensive, and she had to adjust her budget- and ask her father to rent our her one bedroom apartment nearby Soho. It was doable, but she basically had to live on takeout, and her chosen mode of transport was walking. Taxi's were only a luxury, really. Her hatred for waking early was a big issue and she couldn't go to work and actually function like an average human being if she didn't get her daily coffee intake. She locked her apartment in a rush and bolted down the stairway- miraculously not breaking her heels, or legs. Even at as early as at 8a.m, New York was pumping with life. Thousands upon thousands of people everywhere you looked, some going to work, some getting taxis or rushing down to the subway, some leaving their kids off at day care, or school. Beca picked up her coffee and was heading to one of the cities' skyscraper buildings filled up by numerous businesses. Luckily, it wasn't more than a twenty-minute walk from her apartment and she was almost there. Until she saw something she was sure she would never forget.

Two million pairs of eyes surrounding her, yet it was impossible to miss those bright blue orbs shining in the reflection of the cold morning sunrise. It could have lasted a second, two at most, but the brunette felt like she just witnessed hundreds of memories she hasn't even lived yet. The eyes were full of love and loyalty. She didn't know the person behind them but she was sure the owner's heart was just as pure as the iris' of those blue eyes. She didn't know much at this moment, but there was one thing for sure. She needed to know the girl with blue eyes and red hair.

After an internally warming momentum, she realised not only was she staring, but so was the girl. And in fact, the encounter was certainly longer than a few seconds. Oddly enough however, it was not awkward in the slightest- strange nonetheless.

It took Beca another moment to realise her coffee had disappeared. Actually, if it was her excellent observation skills she would see her hand was empty, however in this case it took noticing the girl in front of her bent down to pick it up.

"I believe this is yours." The red haired girl smiled, a smile that reached her eyes and made her forehead wrinkle slightly. She lifted the now half empty cup which surprisingly didn't explode on the concrete and reached out to hand it to the brunette who was now blushing immensely.

Beca shook inside, it was time to actually react like a normal human being does.

"Uh. Y-yeah that is my, um, my.. Cup. Of course, its my cup. Thanks" She looked down, afraid to have made an absolute fool of herself in front of the mesmerising stranger. The situation was now getting awkward and uncomfortable, alerting Beca to leave as fast as she could. She briefly smiled at the stunned girl and attempted to walk on, rembering she actually had somewhere to be, ten minutes ago. This was until she felt pressure on her arm- oddly familiar of a sensation, and turned around to see the red haired girl still looking directly at her and having a hold on her arm.

"Aren't you going to at least ask me my name?" The tall-ish woman sheepishly spoke, both shyness and curiosity evident in her voice at the same time. Beca swallowed before turning fully around to face the girl, mere inches apart from her.

"What _is_ your name, stranger?"

"My name is Chloe." She smirked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Another chapter because I'm super sick and felt suddenly inspired to write rather than marinate in bed. Even though its short I hope you like. Thankyouuuu, enjoy guys. xo**

It was Friday night. Four days since Beca met the red-haired girl in the most strange of circumstances, and the strange feeling inside of her small body didn't leave her for a second. The girl- Chloe, was constantly on her mind. It didn't necessarily interfere with her career, however, it did make her subconsciously- or not, make a new remix with Chloe on her mind. The remix being her favourite one she's created in all her years was another story. Before running off to work, Chloe asked to exchange phone numbers, and Beca was amused by the girl's texts constantly. Their conversations flowed easily, like they have met before or knew each other for a long time. Beca was finding out what Chloe's favourite song, colour, lucky number and birthday was. This wasn't enough though. She wanted to know everything there was to know about her new acquaintance. It wasn't that Chloe was closed off or shy, quite the opposite actually, but texting was a barrier when it came to creating relationships- friendships. Of course. Beca was sure she was straight. Or at least pretty sure. Either way, Chloe made a huge impact on her in just a couple of days and despite Beca's reserved nature, she felt like Chloe was different. Her smile was different than everyone else's. And her eyes. Her eyes were incredible. In a non creepy, friend kind of way, of course. Beca had got a weekend off from work to focus on a launch of a new volume of the magazine for Christmas. It was so far her biggest job and she felt like she had it all planned out in her head. She was confident it'll go great. Chloe said it will.

Beca made herself comfortable on her couch, minutes after ordering pizza. She switched her laptop on to catch up on one of the shows online. Her attention suddenly went to her phone which vibrated on her lap.

 _ **"Hi! :D"**_

Beca smiled to herself before typing out a reply.

 _"Hey blue eyes, why you so happy?"_

 _ **"Just glad you're home from work. I got lonely and Molly isn't fun when she's sleeping :("**_

The brunette giggled. Chloe talked a lot about Molly, her dog. Beca loved animals but with her busy and irregular schedule she was unable to take care of a puppy.

 _"Its been a very busy day, I'm dying :( tell Molly I said hi when she wakes up."_

 _ **"You better not die on me Rebecca Mitchell! I still haven't seen you since Monday, and don't worry little one. I will."**_

 _"Haha! Don't worry, hey I'm not little you're only like an inch taller than me Chloe!"_ Before she could send the message her phone vibrated again and a new message appeared. From Chloe.

 _ **"Tomorrow night. 7. I'll pick you up. Deal?"**_

 _"Sounds perfect."_

 _ **"Good. Its a date :)"**_

It took Beca a moment to realise what was going on. Did Chloe mean a date? Or was it just how she referred to two new friends hanging out. It made her anxious. Unfamiliar. But at the same time, beyond happy.


End file.
